Harry Potter and the New Threat Rising
by Mr. Sharma
Summary: The war between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort is over. It has been seven long years since the great war, and much has changed since that time. However, victory is but too short of a convenience, and a new threat has arrived to darken the days once again


**Legal Disclaimer:** Any characters previously mentioned in the Harry Potter series is owned by J.K. Rowling, and not myself, for I have no legal association in regards to writing and production of the Harry Potter franchise.

On a cold day, in the dead of winter, with storm raging and snow blowing, a boy now known by the world sat on the curb of a familiar drive. This boy's name – a name which will now undoubtedly go into history, for his efforts were the greatest shown by any during this time – was Harry Potter. Harry Potter – with piercing green eyes and jet black hair – was indeed the only one who had the power to stop the great evil which had plagued the land only a year ago. For Harry Potter was no ordinary boy - he was a wizard, and no ordinary one as that, either. The power that rests in Harry's spirit was truly unique, passed down and fortified by all who had shown him kindness, love, and friendship during his days of young. It was this power – and this power alone – that had strength enough to defeat the Dark Lord, Voldemort. And defeat him it did, causing Harry Potter's name to be nothing short of legendary among the wizards and witches of the world. In fact, his name is no longer confined to just the magicians, but even to those without the slightest hint of magic running through their very blood - muggles.

Yes, muggle, a word now commonly used among the people throughout the world whether witch, wizard, or not. For during the last great war between all on the side of pure against the Dark Lord and his servants, much was revealed to the world of muggles; so much that nothing was left a secret. Thus, it came to be that muggles knew of the existence of magic, though their reaction was unexpected among the people of the wizarding world. Predictable, though, was the fact that they were extremely impressed with magic, and of course wished to use it for their own needs, and yet the final outcome was what none were prepared for – aid, from the muggles to the wizards. Indeed, now each enemy of the Dark Lord were united against his will, and their strength multiplied exponentially. But it was not enough. The Dark Lord's will for death of all whom he saw improper was greatly stronger than the others, and ultimately was the cause of the perishing of many. It was a dark time, and all had seemed lost...but then he stood up. For one last time, Harry Potter – The Boy who Lived – stood up against the wrath of the Dark Lord – and in the end, destroyed him.

But victory did not come without cost, Harry thought to himself. So many people had fallen to the hands of Voldemort and his servants – people that Harry had known, loved, and cared for. The parents he never knew, and the godfather who he knew so little. A family who had cared for him so much, save for the one Harry could always turn to in the time of need. Ron Weasley had always been there, right up to the very end. He proved to have a much greater character than anyone could have known, for he continued to fight as hard as ever even with the passing of his family.

The passing of Ron's family – a family who they always said he could call his own. Had they really gone? Something was different, for Harry could not remember what happened to the family of the Weasleys. Strange, he thought. Perhaps he should focus on something different; something happier, for after all, the great Darkness of the world was finally destroyed forever. And so he thought – or at least tried to, for his mind raced to one individual whom Harry had not thought of. There she was, as beautiful and as elegant as ever. Yes, Hermione Granger had always played a major role in Harry's life. She was always there to support him in any situation, and always willing to help. Much like Ron, yet better in some ways. Harry loved her, though not in a partnership type of way. No, he loved her as a friend, and felt that his life would have been disastrous without her there as the greatest friend anyone could have. And so he thought about her, of how she always managed to cheer him up or improve his mood, and how she always use to care about him just as he had cared about her. He wished she was with him right now, by his side, to help him go through this troubled time. So then, he thought, why don't I just give her a call?

"Yes," he said with a grin now spreading on his face, "That would be nice."

He tried to think of where to contact her, and whether she would be at her house or elsewhere. But the harder he tried thinking about it, the foggier it got.

"Okay Harry", he said to himself, "Try to concentrate." With these words he closed his eyes and began to ponder. He would remember where she was soon enough, and then they would meet each other, and talk like old times.

"Harry?"

A voice rang in his ears. He could not make out the tone nor true sound of the voice, but he was sure it was hers.

"Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yes," he said in an awkward tone.

"Then it is time...for you to wake up. Wake up Harry..."

And when Harry opened his eyes, he was no longer sitting on the familiar curb of his Uncle's house, but lying on a bed in a quite unfamiliar room. He tried to move but could not, as though he was held back by an object he could not see. Unable to move his head, he began to gaze around the room moving only his eyes. He looked to his right, but saw nothing but wall, painted in a bright white – possibly the brightest Harry had ever seen. It pained his eyes greatly, for he had to shut them as hard as he could and keep them shut for the pain to ease away. Not knowing where he was, he suddenly felt the strong urge to leave. Moving his eyes towards the opposite wall and opening their lids, he found there a window. Small and yet large, he thought. His mind raced to yet another thought, one that urged him yet again to depart from this area - the window was freedom. He tried to move – tried to reach the window where he could escape this place of great discomfort – but he could not. His body would not let him, for it seemed to be drained of all energy. Exhaustion crept from Harry's body into his mind and he closed his eyes once again, wanting to rest, and so he did. Upon opening them, things were much different.

The wall was now a new colour – a golden colour of brilliance and magnificence. Harry felt oddly proud of the wall for reasons he did not understand; after all, it was just a wall. He turned his head to see the window of freedom (Though he felt as he need not be freed during this time), but in its place, he saw something much different. Rather though, he saw someone. A man who was quite tall for someone sitting in a chair, beamed at Harry with red hair covering the left side of his face and freckles exploding in each area visible on the man's visage. Had Harry not known him so thoroughly, he would definitely not have recognized him, for the difference between child and man for this individual was astounding. It happened to be though that there, sitting in a chair in a place Harry Potter had no knowledge of, was Ronald Weasley.


End file.
